A Good Shot
by TheSingingGirl
Summary: In which there is an aborted revolution, an aborted murder, and an aborted kiss. Based on a prompt from the spoiler-song ficathon, Hell in Heels.


_A/N: This is a fill to a prompt on the spoiler-song Hell in Heels ficathon. The prompt was based on a tweet to Steven Moffat, and its reply:_

_pheasantsRcool: So, in the spirit of equality, any plans for the good Doctor to snog some non-humans in the future? River would surely approve...  
>steven_moffat: Approve as in shoot them?<em>

_I was supposed to be writing a summary of a French article about American democracy, but hey, when faced with a prompt like that..._

* * *

><p>How he had ended up in the same galaxy as Sto, the Doctor wasn't quite sure, although he was ready to blame his erstwhile ship. The Great Cyborg Revolution of the Cassavalian Belt had started half a century too early thanks to the intervention of the Judoon, who had been trying to catch a lone cyborg assassin, and who had typically shut down the circuits of a hundred cyborgs in the process. The Doctor had teamed up with a rather fetching purple android with synthetic crimson hair (why hadn't he thought of that? He could be ginger!) by the name of Frellissantiutaw who had a vested interest in not letting the revolution go ahead; she was a junior assistant to the (organic) Minister for Equality, and had been working for years to get him to pass some pretty hefty pro-cyborg legislation, which would no doubt be scrapped immediately if the revolution went ahead and failed. Which it would, at this point in time, the Doctor had immediately seen. There was no coherence to the revolution, no systematic chain of command, and most of all, no leader who would actually consider working <em>with <em>the organic beings.

Anyway, between them they had hijacked a holovision station to broadcast a plea for peace, persuaded the Minister for Equality not to tear up his laws and resorted to deactivating several of the more violent droids themselves. They could be repaired (probably), which made the Doctor feel slightly better, although he hoped that the revolution wouldn't be restarted over the issue. Finally, the vast majority of the planet's cyborg population had stood down, and the Doctor and Frellisantiutaw had returned to the Senate building, where the TARDIS had landed right in the middle of the crisis Assembly meeting that morning.

Unfortunately, Frellissantiutaw had been cornered in a corridor by the remainder of a terrorist group who had arrived with the intention of blowing the place up, and who were now accusing her of betraying her metal kindred. Not good.

At this point in time, the Doctor was ensconced in a handy broom cupboard (well, not a broom cupboard exactly, because they didn't use brooms here, more like really long feather dusters), fiddling with his sonic screwdriver and trying to work out if he could take out the battery circuits of the terrorists without affecting Frellissantiutaw, who was standing pretty much directly between him and the others. It wasn't looking good, and Frellissantiutaw was sounding more and more desperate, and the Doctor was starting to panic. He knew for a fact that she had to be around at the time of the real revolution – she couldn't die here.

Now, at this point it must be understood that the last thing he expected was the terrorist group to spontaneously deactivate their weapons and skip around singing 'Ring a ring o' roses' which had never really caught on outside planet Earth, despite his frequent attempts to introduce it to other cultures. However, River Song appearing next to him in a flash of light was probably the second-to-last thing he expected.

"River!" he hissed, because that was the loudest thing he could risk.

She shook her curls out of her eyes. "Hello sweetie," she whispered back. "Why exactly are we in a broom cupboard?"

"Well, personally, I'm in a broom cupboard because there's a bunch of cyborg terrorists out there who are talking themselves into killing Frellissantiutaw the Friendly fifty years before she'll get the nickname and I'm trying to work out how I can stop them without getting killed myself. By the way, I've done Utah. Twice. What about you?"

"It's our anniversary, and you were late," she said crisply. "I tracked you here."

"But it's not our—!"

"It is for me, and I'm not about to miss an anniversary," she informed him. "We always have so much… fun."

He couldn't quite help the slightly guilty smile on his face.

"But I have to admit, I hadn't planned on doing it in a broom cupboard… this year," she tagged on. "So let's deal with this."

The Doctor was about to protest that this was exactly what he was trying to do, but then she pushed the door open a crack, whipped a gun out of… somewhere, and fired four very precise shots, which were followed by four very imprecise crashes.

"Electromagnetic pulse," she informed him. "They'll be out for a while." She paused. "You've got that face on."

"What face?"

"The 'she's sexy when she's shooting to stun' face."

"This is my normal face."

"It is."

There was a beat. "Right, so you've done Utah twice as well, then."

She rolled her eyes. "You couldn't have played along for two more seconds."

He chuckled, pushed open the door, and was immediately accosted by a purple android.

"Oh, Doctor, thank you so much!" Frellissantiutaw gushed.

"It wasn't—" he started.

She kissed him. No, she didn't just kiss him – she attacked him. Completely shocked and slightly terrified, he flailed a bit, trying to push her off.

Bang.

Suddenly his lips were free again. He shook his head to clear it, and in doing so caught sight of River, flipping her gun back into its holster.

"You shot her?" he asked stupidly.

She pouted a little. "Well, she was snogging my husband."

"But you shot her!"

"Oh, what happened to the 'she's sexy when she's shooting to stun' face?" River sighed.

"I think it was more of a 'she's sexy when she's shooting to stun for a half-decent reason' face, to be honest."

She stalked up to him, stepping over Frellissantiutaw's unmoving body. "She snogged my husband. On our anniversary. Right in front of me. That's more than a half-decent reason, my love."

He harrumphed.

She rolled her eyes. "Think of it this way. Imagine someone kissed me when I clearly didn't want them to, right in front of you, on our fiftieth anniversary."

"Fiftieth?" he gasped.

"Focus, sweetie."

He looked at her, and he thought about it. It was a very quick think.

"How would you react?" she pressed.

In answer, he grabbed her round the waist and kissed her so soundly that it left her out of breath.

"Shall we take this to the TARDIS?" he murmured against her lips.

"To start with," she smirked.

All in all, it was a very enjoyable anniversary.


End file.
